Last Man Standing
by MusicalMischeifMaker
Summary: The last Film Mark ever makes in an angsty one for those left standing. PostRENT.


**Disclaimer:** I do not own RENT. Wish I did, 'cause that'd be pretty sweet.

_Last Man Standing_

This is for life  
Don't ever doubt it  
I've already fallin'  
Love is alive  
So stand up and shout it  
Cause destiny's calling  
The others who stand behind me  
They don't look nothing like me

**--Emmerson Drive, Last Man Standing**

_**Click.**_

Not many people remember promises they made as a kid. Even fewer actually live up to that promise. Everybody in kindergarden wants to be superheros or princesses, and sometimes we want to have illustrious careers as ponies at the same time. I myself wanted to be a fireman at the age of five. Obviously, that wouldn't have happened. Seeing as what's going on now.

But there are a few of us that achieved their dreams. Look at Benny, for instance. He wanted to be rich. Well, he didn't say them in exactly those words. It was more along the lines of 'I'm a gonna have alotta money and cars and big trucks, and all my friends'll come and live with me!' At least half of the bargan came true: he has a shitload of cash.

There was something a group of friends did, though. Way back in sixth grade. Twenty years ago last September. We all made a promise. Or, I guess others would call it a sort of bet, actually. I remember it, though I'm not sure Benny does. Nor do I think Roger, Maureen or Collins still do. Sorry- I ment _did_.

You see, even if we didn't have money like Benny-still don't, in fact. We were happy. At least, we were three years ago. Everything came undone the day Angel died.

Think about it: I'm sure you all remember that Roger left for Sante Fe, Collins slipped back into school and into depression of the death of his illustrious queen, Maureen and Joanne were on and off like a pair of high school seniors. And Mimi, well, after a month or two with Benny, she slipped off on her own. Me, I was left alone with only myself. Though what Roger said was really true, it wasn't really that different than when I'd been surrounded by people. I was still only an observer of life, although now I didn't have a guitar accompaniament to my solitude.

Yet, around November, things appeared as if they were getting back together. Roger was back, and Collins was a bit more jovial about things, all in the memory of Angel, of course. Joanne and Maureen were on much stronger and longer speaking terms, even. The only problem was Mimi, as nobody had been in contact with her for nearly a month.

All of you know now, I supposed, that we did, eventually find Mimi. Christmas Eve, almost to the exact moment Roger first met her, Maureen brought her body back from the Park. The kid was real, bad, I could tell you that. I'm pretty sure that whole thing about seeing Angel was an overdose talking. But Maureen and Roger both seemed to take it as a sign.

Of course, looking back on it, I kinda fits in with what happened. Maybe Mimi was telling the truth, and she did get a lesson from Angel telling her to stick around for a bit and listen to Roger. We didn't think about the fact our old friend only suggested staying for the music. No more, no less.

Mimi died en route to the hospital that night. It was one crappy Christmas present. Roger was never quite the same after that. I mean, first April, now Mimi. Even a guy like Roger can only take so much.

A little morbid, I know, but I kept thinking that Roger would be the next to go. Him or Collins. Both were pretty much in the same boat, you know. Diseased, missing what they basically kept living for.

None of us, and I mean, none of us, expected it to be Maureen.

It was one of her stupid protests, a year and a half after we burried Mimi. The crowd just got a little too rowdy, and the cops a little too overzealious, I suppose. One went a bit trigger-happy, and supposedly fired a warning shot. How a warning shot ends up perfectly lined with someone's chest, I have no frigging clue. Joanne couldn't get a case to go through, though she tried damn hard. She was transferred a few months ago to a firm in Washington. Her last postcard made it sound like she was alright.

Lucky them, Roger and Collins went into hospital for the last time together. Two days ago, Benny and I came back from Scarsdale to pay our final respects. I took time out to see my mom, and even built up the corage to stop by Cindy's and meet my nephew's for the first time in four years. He was pretty good about it; Benny. Since the annulment with Alison, he hasn't been all that bad. Not completely like the old Benny, but he stopped trying to throw our asses off on the street. He's pretty happy, as the prenup was a decent sum of cash and he got to keep the Rover in the divorce.

I started thinking a couple of days ago about that day in sixth grade, when, innocently enough, we'd all made a pack. We made a pact with each other, that whichever of us was the last left in our old and greying days would keep the rest of us alive. Most of us, I'm sure, were joking. I, however, wasn't.

So, whoever comes in her to find this video confessional (probably one of my only films that's ever to be published, go figure.) Please tell Benjamin Coffin the third, previous co-owner of the CyberArts company, that prehaps some sort of statue is order. After all, the sot still has enough cash to blow, why not on us.

I appreciate the help in referring this message, to whomever finds this tape. Just remind the last one stand what he has to do, because I won't be able.

At least, I hope I won't. So long as the fucking rope doesn't snap.

_**Click.**_

**Author's Note:** Okay, I don't know what I'm to expect with this story. Maybe a couple of flames. I really don't know where this idea came to me. I just had this random idea. I do not think that Mark, Roger, Collins, Mimi and Maureen would all die so fast. I felt in the mood for an angst fit, and the rest of it kinda wrote itself out while, in my boredom I typed.

So, love it, hate it, I'm just trying to delay doing my english homework.


End file.
